Here comes another hurricane. People are coming up here from the coast and New Orleans. Different churches have set themselves up as shelters. Our church is already organizing clean up crews for afterwards. I'm not nervous yet. The sky isn't black and the winds aren't whipping. In fact everything looks very lovely right now. Life is like that. One minute everything is hunky Dorrie and the next you've got some issues; but God.
We know about the weather because of satellites. I'm glad not to know the future. I don't want to know what trouble lies ahead. I'm funny like that. When I've had to have surgery before, I tell the doc, don't say anything. Let me sign the informed consent without all the nitty gritty details. If you tell me, I'm going to chicken out. This was very important when they operated on my brain. Now you know my secret, brain damaged. It all makes sense now right?
But really, aren't you glad not to know? I suppose all the people who are evacuating right now are very grateful to get a chance to prepare for the severity of what is coming. I don't know why they don't let New Orleans become an ocean again. There, I said it out loud, what a lot of people are thinking. It was a dumb idea, to build below sea level and think a little man made wall could hold back the sea; riiiiiiight. Now that was some good thinking. Yes, it's cool, but just how much money goes towards something that has to be rescued every year for flooding, because it's lower than sea level? The Mississippi coast was devastated by the storm. The winds actually tore the entire coast up. There were no leaves on trees that were left standing. There were no birds, nothing, just an eerie silence. Entire neighborhoods gone, just the slabs remaining. It has been a very long, slow painful process to rebuild, and now here comes another one, Gustav.
I hope tomorrow the storm weakens, I hope we have a roof tomorrow night, I hope there are no tornado's. I hope the people in the path of the storm find safety and shelter today. It is good to have hope.